Genius Loci
by LadyWallace
Summary: After they both receive orders to head to Britain, Crowley and Aziraphale reluctantly leave Rome only to find their ship to be populated with some familiar faces that might just blow their cover.


**A commission fic for Tessseagull ^_^ This is a sequel to the story "In Extremis" but can also be read as a standalone. The title for this one, according to the list I found on the internet, means "guardian spirits". I hope you enjoy!**

**Also, after I wrote this I realized I forgot what Roman ships were, but I think they had galley slaves. So ignore the inaccuracies. :P**

**If you would like to commission a fic, find out more on my Tumblr. I still have three slots left for my current run.**

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Genius Loci

A Good Omens Fanfic

_After they both receive orders to head to Britain, Crowley and Aziraphale reluctantly leave Rome only to find their ship to be populated with some familiar faces that might just blow their cover._

Aziraphale stepped on board the ship with a heavy sigh. Oh, how he was going to miss the warm Mediterranean weather and the lively restaurants in Rome—not to mention the libraries…

It didn't bear thinking about. Especially since he would be going to Britain which was cold and wet and populated by barbarians if the hearsay was to be believed. Not that he minded 'barbarians' as a rule, it was just that they weren't exactly inclined to have wine shops or an abundance of scrolls for reading. He had brought along several of his favorite scrolls, tucked safely away in a crate in the cargo bay. He would at least not be without reading material. He had made friends with a scholar in Rome too, who promised to send him some more periodically, but Aziraphale worried that they wouldn't always make the journey.

As he was boarding, he noticed Crowley a little away, directing the crew who were loading several large crates.

"Oi! Careful with that! Precious cargo!" the demon said.

Aziraphale tried to ignore the goings on. They had agreed to take the same ship since it was the only one heading to Britain that week, but not to ask the other about what their business in Britain was. They'd already gotten tangled up in each other's affairs enough recently.

Not that Aziraphale was actually complaining; after all, Crowley had come to him for help saving slave children, which, as an angel, was a request he could hardly deny. It hadn't really been the demon's fault that the rescue had led to Aziraphale being captured and nearly discorporated in a gladiatorial fight. Crowley _had_ returned for him and gotten him out of that sticky situation, for which he was grateful.

He just thought that, perhaps, once they got to Britain, it might be best to go their separate ways for a while.

Crowley hissed at the dock workers in annoyance before he too boarded the ship and sauntered over to the railing where Aziraphale was standing, leaning back against it so they were both facing opposite directions.

"Idiots. I'll be lucky if half of those make it to Britain in one piece," Crowley growled.

Aziraphale hated that his curiosity was sparked. "Er…important cargo?"

Crowley glanced over at him, looking at the angel over the tops of his tinted spectacles so Aziraphale could see his serpent-like eyes. "I should say so. I got as much wine as I could. Heard all they have in Britain is something they brew from grain." Crowley made a face. "Not something I want to be stuck drinking for the next… however long."

"Oh," Aziraphale said, actually wishing he had thought of that as well. But he would make do with the scrolls instead. He wouldn't give those up for anything. He looked up at the sky, seeing it looked like it might rain, and sighed. The least he could ask for was that his last day in Rome wasn't gloomy.

"I think I'm going below," he said.

Crowley, who hated rain even more that Aziraphale, nodded in agreement and followed the angel down. Aziraphale felt slightly uncomfortable being seen in the demon's presence, always worried that one of his coworkers would choose an inopportune time to randomly show up, even though they rarely made visits to earth, and never to see him, unless it was to give him new orders. But either way, he knew it certainly wouldn't do to get too friendly with Crowley. Even though they'd always been civil to each other when they did meet, despite everything to the contrary. It had just seemed to grow more complicated recently, what with Crowley saving Aziraphale's life and all.

Yes, it was probably best they go their separate ways once they got to Britain.

The lower part of the ship was crowded, both with crew and passengers. There were families heading there to meet up with their soldier husbands and fathers, and several traders going over in the hopes to monopolize off of the new Roman villages cropping up due to the soldier's families heading over there. Aziraphale hoped that at least one of them might be planning on opening a decent restaurant.

It was close and loud, and Aziraphale pushed his way through to a back corner among the cargo where he found a crate to sit on.

"Hey! It's those men!"

Aziraphale and Crowley both froze and looked around for who was addressing and who was being addressed.

A few small, shaggy heads peeked out from behind the stacks of cargo, interest in their faces.

"Oh," Aziraphale said with a small, relieved smile and a wave. "Hello."

"What are you doing?" Crowley demanded, glowering at him.

Aziraphale looked at him incredulously. "Those are some of the children we sav—"

Crowley slapped a hand over his mouth. "Are you insane? We can't be seen talking to them. We don't know if anyone on this boat is a slaver who was in with the others. If the kids recognize us, we might be in big trouble."

"Well, we can't just ignore them," Aziraphale said in a harsh whisper, before casting another smile over to the wide-eyed kids. "That would be rude."

"Rude?" Crowley looked like he was about to have a fit. "Angel, why are you always so ridiculous? You have no idea how many people saw you to recognize you in the arena, do you want to draw more attention to yourself?"

Aziraphale sighed. "Well, no, of course not. But why are they even here?"

"I told my contact to get them back to where they belonged. Some of them were British kids. I guess this is the passage they ended up on."

"Erm," Aziraphale said suddenly as he looked over and saw one of the children had crept closer.

"Why are you whispering?" he asked, curly auburn hair falling into his eyes. "We just wanted to thank you for what you did."

"Oh, that's very kind," Aziraphale said, with a kind smile. "But we just wanted to help. It's our—er—_my_ duty, after all."

"And we'll be in a lot of trouble if we're seen with you, so scram," Crowley growled in his best intimidating attitude.

It didn't seem to intimidate the boy much, though, because he didn't really look scared at all. "I'll be careful. I just wanted to ask how you got us out of there. The chains just sort of fell off and all. Are you magic?"

Crowley rolled his eyes and glowered at Aziraphale as if to say '_see what you've done now?'_ Aziraphale was indignant as it hadn't been his fault. They'd had to get the kids out somehow.

"Well…you see…" he began.

"And we thought you would be killed when those guards came after you. I guess you're pretty good with a sword," the boy said, eyes wide with admiration.

"Oh, well…"

"Pretty good at losing one, anyway," Crowley muttered, then tugged on Aziraphale's elbow. "Go back to your friends, we have business to discuss." Crowley waved the kid off. "_Come on, angel,_" he hissed, yanking Aziraphale further into the hold as the angel protested.

"Oh, Crowley, that wasn't very nice, they're only children."

"And children have big mouths," Crowley reminded him but Aziraphale caught the slightly concerned glance the demon sent over his shoulder, which made the angel smile to himself.

"We saved them, it's not like they're going to turn on us," Aziraphale pointed out.

Crowley made a noncommittal noise but moved to a secluded place and sat down. Aziraphale reluctantly sat as well, clasping his hands awkwardly together as he thought about what he was going to say to the demon.

"Look," he began, then paused when Crowley turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Er, I appreciated the help in Rome, but…I think it's probably best we part ways once we get to Britain."

"Oh?" Crowley asked, voice moderated, but his shoulders slumped just a fraction.

"I mean, it's…we have our own duties to see to and…"

"Yeah, yeah, of course," Crowley cut in so Aziraphale didn't have to continue. "You're right that's probably for the best."

"It's nothing personal," Aziraphale hurried to say. "I mean, aside from you being a demon and me being and angel—hereditary enemies and all that. You understand, of course."

"Yeah, of course," Crowley said again.

"I mean, I'm sure we'll cross paths at some point," Aziraphale added, feeling like he was dithering now. "We always do."

Crowley grunted and in the awkward silence, both were startled when a voice piped up.

"I knew there was something strange about you!"

Both beings whipped around to see the little boy perched on top of a crate, grinning.

"Oh, er…hello," Aziraphale said, clearing his throat. "Whatever do you mean by that? Nothing strange about us at all!"

Crowley gave him a withering look as the boy piped up.

"I heard you talking! You're an angel and a demon—that's what you said!"

"Oh, look what you've done now," Crowley growled.

"Me? You're just as much to blame," Aziraphale protested before turning to the boy. "Look, it's just…a turn of phrase, we're not _really_ an angel and a demon…"

"Then how come you can use magic?" the boy said matter-of-factly. "I've heard about angels and demons and I know they can do things like that. Things that can't be explained." Then he quickly added. "I won't tell, promise. I was just curious."

"Yes, well, perhaps it's best you run back to the others," Aziraphale said reluctantly, worried Crowley might be the one to cause the scene. "What's your name, by the way?"

"Tor," the boy said with a smile then he skipped off and joined the other kids.

"I can't believe you blew our cover," Crowley growled.

"Well, really, dear, did you think they wouldn't have questions after we miraculously got them out of that cell and those chains?"

Crowley shrugged helplessly. "I'm not really used to humans noticing much of anything."

"Yes, but children are different, they notice things adults don't."

Crowley grumbled again, but looked up to see the whole group of children creeping over to them now, three boys and two girls. He snarled at Aziraphale. "Look, what you've done now!"

"Sorry to bother you," said Tor. "But my friends wanted to meet you too."

"You said you wouldn't tell, you little snitch!" Crowley growled.

Tor, to his credit, didn't look fazed. He simply folded his arms over his chest. "I said I wouldn't tell anyone who might make a fuss, but my friends won't tell the adults on board either. They just wanted to see the men who saved them."

Aziraphale couldn't help but smile. "Oh, Crowley, let them stay. They're just curious."

Crowley made a point of growling and sulking, but his eyes softened behind his glasses. "Alright, fine."

Tor smiled, and turned to introduce his friends. "This is Eoghan, and Aedan, and the girls are Saoirse and Siobhan."

"I don't really believe you're angels," Saoirse said matter-of-factly.

"Well, I'm not, as a matter of fact," Crowley said grumpily. "I'm a demon."

Some of the other children shrunk away at that, but Tor turned to them with a scoffing look. "He'd not a _bad_ demon, obviously. He saved us, didn't he?"

"I didn't think there were good demons," said Aedan who seemed to be the youngest in the group.

Tor seemed perplexed at that for a moment. "Well, he's working with an angel, so I guess he must be."

"I'm not good," Crowley growled. "Real bad, I am." Aziraphale fought the urge to roll his eyes.

"Then why did you save us?" Tor demanded.

Crowley looked mortified so Aziraphale stepped in. "Oh, I'm sure he had his own reasons for it, but we were just glad we could get you out of there."

"What are your names?" Tor asked them.

"Oh, well, I'm Aziraphale and this is Crowley," Aziraphale introduced.

"Azsif—Azra…Zira…" Tor scrunched up his face as he tried to say the angel's name.

Crowley rolled his eyes. "Quite the mouthful, isn't it? That's why I usually just call him 'angel'."

Aziraphale shot him a slightly offended look, but the kids seemed satisfied and seemed to relax a little.

"Can you do magic?" Siobhan asked.

"Oh, well, it's not magic so much as miracles," Aziraphale explained. "And I'm afraid I can only do those when I really need to otherwise I might get a sharp reprimand." An idea formed in his head though. "Although… I do know a little bit of magic that doesn't involve miracles."

Crowley glanced over at him, and Aziraphale hid his smugness as he palmed a denarii from his purse while he prepared to do his trick. He had learned it from a street performer and had been very proud of himself. Even if the man had stolen several of his denarii in the process.

"What is that behind your ear?" he asked the little girl and reached out, revealing the coin in his palm with an overexaggerated surprised expression. "Why, it's a denarii!"

Siobhan just looked confused. "I don't think that was ever in my ear."

"It wasn't, I saw it in his hand," Eoghan said, folding his arms over his chest. "That's not real magic."

Aziraphale scrambled for something else. "Oh, well, perhaps something else, does anyone have a handkerchief?"

The children shook their heads, looking unimpressed. "Oh, er, well…"

"I think that's enough, Aziraphale," Crowley said. "They don't seem too impressed."

"Well, I haven't gotten to any of the good tricks yet!"

"I think it's still best we stop. Wouldn't want to draw a crowd," Crowley muttered.

"Oh, yes, quite right," Aziraphale said, completely missing the demon's sarcasm. He gave the coin to the children anyway, as he would have no need of it.

"Now, why don't you kids go off and get some rest?" Crowley told them. "We have a long journey."

They looked a little disappointed, but they went back to their previous position, and Crowley relaxed a little.

"They won't be a problem to us, Crowley," Aziraphale assured him. "They're good kids."

"Yeah," Crowley said, and there was a fondness in his voice. A very bad demon indeed.

They sat among the cargo as the ship settled and finally got underway. The other passengers had gotten comfortable, and eventually Aziraphale had done the same. Crowley, having no other way to pass the time, propped himself against a crate and closed his eyes as if he were sleeping—and maybe he was, though Aziraphale hadn't thought demons needed sleep. He decided to get one of his scrolls from his luggage and read it in the dim light of a lantern hanging from the ceiling of the hold.

He didn't know how long it had been but his internal clock told him in was nighttime. Certainly all the humans on board were asleep now, hunkering down where they could find space.

All expect one, anyway.

"Zira!"

The angel looked over to see Tor creeping over to them, eyes wide and looking slightly worried.

"Whatever is wrong?" Aziraphale asked.

"It's those men…the ones who took us. They're on board! Eoghan saw them when he went to ste—er—get us some supper."

Aziraphale reached out and shook Crowley awake. The demon grunted and blinked, quickly reaching up to push his glasses back onto his face which had gotten a little skewed. "Wot?" he asked irritably.

"Crowley, Tor says the slavers are on board!"

Crowley came awake fully then with a curse. "I told you kids not to snitch!"

"We didn't say anything!" Tor said firmly. "They didn't even see us, but they might see you two! And I bet they're going to Britain to take more kids. You have to stop them!"

"Stop them? How do you think we're going to manage that?" Crowley demanded.

"I don't know," Tor said. "But you're not going to be in Rome anymore. There will be no one to save the next batch of kids. You can't let them get more!"

"Crowley, we should do something," Aziraphale said.

"And what do you suggest, angel? Kill them? Dump their bodies over the side of the boat?" Crowley demanded. "They won't stop any other way."

Aziraphale looked around. "Well, perhaps not the killing part… But I'm sure we could come up with something else."

Crowley turned to Tor. "Look, just you and your friends stay hidden. We don't want them to see you."

Tor nodded. "Thank you."

Crowley looked uncomfortable but Aziraphale turned to him when Tor had hurried back to the others. "Let's go see if we can find them now."

"We still don't have a plan, angel," Crowley growled.

"I'm thinking of one," Aziraphale said thoughtfully as they walked past all the sleeping passengers. He looked at the people, trying to find the slavers, before Crowley grabbed his sleeve and tugged.

"There," the demon said, pointing to two men who were moving up to step out on the deck.

Aziraphale pressed his lips into a thin line. Those were the slavers alright.

"So, what's the plan, angel?" Crowley grumbled.

"Er," Aziraphale said, looking around for inspiration. "Well… perhaps there's something on deck we can find…"

Crowley shook his head and simply pushed past him to go cautiously up onto the deck.

The two men were standing at the stern, talking. Aziraphale and Crowley hid behind some crates and watched them as they conferred but couldn't hear what they said.

"We could just push them off," Crowley suggested.

Aziraphale shot him a look. "I thought you were against killing!"

"Not exactly killing. They _could_ survive," Crowley shrugged.

"There must be something else—you could make them forget!"

"And I'd have to explain that to home office," Crowley said. "All I told them of our last venture was that I got an angel taken to the Coliseum. Got a good commendation for that. No point in wiping the memories of the men I sold him to."

"Well, unless knowledge of an angel was causing trouble," Aziraphale said.

Crowley shrugged. "True. But there's only so much I can do—I can change specific memories, not character. They'd just be back at it, just like Tor said."

Aziraphale sighed. "There must be something…" He moved to see more clearly and placed his hand against a smaller crate that wasn't secure. It tumbled and before he could catch it, it smashed on the deck.

The slavers turned around, staring directly at Aziraphale and Crowley.

"For Hell's sake," Crowley growled.

There was a staring contest for a moment, but then one of the men pointed. "Oi, that's the one we sold to the Coliseum!"

"Oh, oh no, I think you must have confused me for someone else," Aziraphale said quickly, backing away.

"No, no confusing you with that pale hair," the mam growled. "Probably an escaped Gaullic or Frankish slave, huh? Trying to get away from your masters. Well, you and the other one, who's probably the same judging by that red hair, are going to come with us, start our new batch of product to sell once we get back to Rome."

"And this time, we'll make sure you can't get away," the other man added, before taking a whip from the back of his belt and letting it uncoil.

"Okay, now would be a good time to come up with a plan, angel," Crowley growled as the two supernatural beings began to back away, looking for any avenue of escape. "This is why it's never good to go into anything without a plan."

"Oh, do stop," Aziraphale muttered. "You did no better when we went to rescue the children, which, arguably, is what started this entire mess!"

They soon found that their luck had run out, however, as they ended up with their backs against the railing of the deck and nowhere to go but in the ocean or toward the slavers advancing on them.

"A miracle right now would be a good idea, angel," Crowley grunted.

Aziraphale pursed his lips, considering what he might be able to use to both justify why he would need to miracle a couple slavers away from him, _and_ save a demon, so that he wouldn't have as much paper work to do when Heaven came to ask what he had been thinking.

"Hey, ugly!"

Something whirled through the air and hit one of the slavers on the back of the head.

He spun, and over his shoulder, Aziraphale and Crowley saw Tor and his friends poised with various bits of rubbish they must have found below as well as some ballast rocks.

"Get out of here, kids!" the slaver snarled, before he frowned. "Wait a minute, aren't those some of the slaves we picked up before, Septimius?"

The other slaver began to grin nastily. "Yeah, they are. Well, would you look at that, we're already starting to gain back our previous load without even having gotten to Britain yet."

"You can't have any of my friends, or me!" Tor said and he and the other kids started throwing rocks and whatever else they had at the two men who had to dodge as they advanced on the kids.

Crowley and Aziraphale, moved to help stop them, but the one with the whip turned around and brandished it at Aziraphale. "You stay right there, pretty boy."

As Aziraphale fumed, getting weary of this situation, the other man snagged hold on Siobhan and Aedan as they didn't retreat fast enough.

"Hey, you let them go!" Tor cried, throwing his last rock.

"Shut up, brat!" the slaver guarding Aziraphale snapped and lashed out with the whip, catching Tor across the shoulder. The boy fell with a gasp of pain and the man raised it again. "I'll teach you a lesson!"

"Stop!" Aziraphale cried.

The slaver was about to start lashing Tor, only to have Crowley step between him and the fallen boy, grabbing the whip and letting it coil around his arm.

Aziraphale watched as a dark expression crossed the demon's face. "You know one thing I really don't like?" he asked, his voice taking on a cold quality that sent a chill down Aziraphale's spine. "I don't like people who mess with kids!"

Then Crowley reached up and took off his spectacles, showing his snake eyes, glowing slightly in the dark.

The slaver released the whip, staggering back with a cry.

"What the hell are you?" he demanded.

"Exactly. Hell," Crowley said, taking the whip for himself. "Now let go of those kids!"

The other slaver released Siobhan and Aedan and backed away, his hands up. Aziraphale hurried over to help Tor to his feet, gently touching his arm and healing the lash mark there as Tor watched in fascination.

"Now, get out of here!" Crowley said and lunged forward with a snarl.

The two men leapt back, only to trip over a barrel and stagger until they both took a fall over the railing along with the barrel while they were both trying to grab each other to stay upright.

Their cries, ending in a splash, were heard from the water below and Aziraphale and Crowley, along with all the kids, rushed over to see the two slavers—or rather, would-be slavers—lashing around in the sea, each trying to get a hold of the barrel and fighting over it.

"Yeah! Serves you right!" Tor shouted down at them before Aziraphale sent him a chiding look, even though, at the moment, he was really feeling the same sentiment.

"Surely this is death for them, though," the angel said worriedly to Crowley, even though he wasn't feeling so much bad for the men as he was for being involved in the whole situation as a whole.

"Nah," Crowley assured him. "They'll find themselves washed up on a previously undiscovered island within a couple days and stay there for at least long enough to rethink their lives." He cocked his head to one side. "Unless they kill each other, but that would be out of our hands, then, wouldn't it, angel?"

Aziraphale thought he should protest, but honestly, it sounded pretty fair to him after all those men had done and what they would still do given the chance. He turned to the children instead. "Come on, let's get you back down into the hold before anyone comes to investigate."

Tor looked between them. "You saved us again," he said. "Thanks."

"Actually, I think you saved us this time," Aziraphale told him with a smile as he ushered them toward the stairs that led below.

He and Crowley trailed behind and the angel turned to his companion. "That was very brave of you, jumping in front of Tor like that," he said.

"Ngk," Crowley grunted. "Wasn't like it would hurt me."

"Yes, but, I just don't think you're really all that bad. For a demon."

Crowley turned to glower at him, putting his glasses firmly back in place. "Well, don't go telling everyone."

Aziraphale smiled, knowing that it would definitely be his little secret.

_Thankfully the rest_ of the trip was uneventful, and they made it to Britain in good time. Almost record time, honestly. Aziraphale might have had something to do with that. After all, being stuck aboard ship was utterly dull.

He and Crowley stood on the docks as Tor and the others gathered to say goodbye to them. They had found a family on board who was going to be passing through the village they had all been taken from who offered to let them travel with them.

"Thanks again, for everything," Tor said, speaking for the group as the others nodded.

Aziraphale smiled. "No need. I do hope we might cross paths again."

Tor nodded and then impulsively threw his arms around Aziraphale and then Crowley who stood stock still until he gently patted the boy on the shoulder.

"Er, yes, see you around," the demon said, but as Tor hurried off with the others to join their travel party, Aziraphale caught the demon's face softening.

Aziraphale saw one of the ship hands unload his trunk and decided it was time for him to be getting on as well. He turned to Crowley, suddenly feeling slightly regretful. "So…I should probably be leaving."

"Yeah, yeah, me too," Crowley said with a nod. "See you around, I guess."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll cross paths at some point," Aziraphale assured him with a smile and held out his hand. The demon shook it and then they both turned toward their luggage.

Aziraphale got his trunk and thanked the sailor who had unloaded it. He looked around at the area around the docks, looking to see if there was someone he might be able to get passage with.

"Ah, Aziraphale!"

The angel turned to see Crowley coming over to him hefting a small crate. "Er…You want one of these? They can't fit it all in the wagon, so…"

Aziraphale saw the lie for what it was, seeing there was quite enough room in the wagon for at least three more crates of the wine, but he smiled and hurried over to take it from the demon. "Why, I would love to take this off your hands. Thank you. It will be much enjoyed."

Crowley nodded and turned back to his wagon as Aziraphale went to find his own mode of transportation. He heard Londinium was the new metropolis in these parts. He wasn't sure he could ever love a place as much as he had enjoyed Rome, but he thought perhaps he would go over there. And it was early days yet. He was sure the place had great potential.

As he went to hail a cart driver to see if he could get a ride, he began to feel a little better about his new appointment. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all.


End file.
